Imagination, Reality, and the Space Between
by ElvenSailorGirl
Summary: During the blitz, a girl still becoming a young woman is sent to stay with her grandfather in the country. When children are evacuated, she meets four unexpected friends and with them finds adventure beyond her wildest dreams. Eventual Peter/OC.
1. Prologue: Safe Haven

**Summary:** During the London blitz, a girl still becoming a young woman is sent to stay with her grandfather in the country. When children are evacuated, she meets four unexpected friends and with them finds an adventure beyond her wildest dreams.

**Disclaimer:** I own nothing of Narnia, none of the characters, none of the ideas, none of the places, none of the anything. The only thing I own is my OC. Everything else is the property of the estate of CS Lewis.

Please do take a look at the Author's Note at the end of the chapter, you can read it before or after the chapter, so whichever makes you happier. It explains some things about what, why, and how I'm writing. I will warn you though it's a whopper of a note.

_**Imagination, Reality, and the Space Between**_

_**Prologue: Safe Haven**_

She sighed, looking at the huge house from the outside. She liked the house; she really did, since otherwise, though she loved her grandfather, she wouldn't have come back every summer since she was ten. Of course, this summer she hadn't exactly been given a choice. They were beginning to bomb London, the Nazis were, and though they didn't actually live within London, her mother was worried. Too worried, really, but that didn't stop her from being packed off to her grandfather's house like she couldn't even listen to the wireless without breaking down into a mess of tears. She had older brothers, both fighting in the war now, so she certainly cared about what was happening, though truth be told, she was frightened but not so much by the bombs, but by the streets afterwards, the rubble where shop fronts and houses used to be. That was the terrifying bit, because the explosions only lasted for a few hours, but the damage they caused lingered.

But there was no turning back, no running after her mother driving away in the car, no crying that she wanted to go home like the first year, when she was seven and Mother and Father were taking Edward, her oldest brother, who had just finished thirteenth form and was going off to University in the fall on a trip, leaving her other brother James who had been ten at the time and herself behind. She had cried over nearly everything for the first week but eventually she had gotten over it.

After that, she had started to like the place. It was great for playing hide-and-seek for one thing, granted, that worked better when the housekeeper wasn't taking tours around the house… but that was irrelevant really. The house had really grown on her and so had her grandfather. He was an eccentric old man, but he was sweet, and he told the best stories.

Smiling slightly at her memories, she picked up her bags, (she had a full closet of things already here, but some of those things were too small now) and headed inside. She was sure that Mother had warned her grandfather that she was coming… except she wasn't. The house seemed dead, at least, more so than it normally was when she arrived.

"Hello?" she called out tentatively. There had to be someone there, the house was never empty. She listened for footsteps for a moment before hefting up her bags and heading to 'her' room. It wasn't exactly easy to carry two rather large suitcases up the rather narrow stairway, but she eventually made it. The dark wood of the floor creaked as it always did as she hefted the suitcases down the passageway to the room on the end. Once within the end room, she lay one suitcase atop the already made bed, and set the other at the foot. She contemplated unpacking for a moment, before deciding against it and choosing to look for her grandfather instead.

Quickly clattering down the stairs, she did what most people do when looking for someone. She called out for him.

"Grandfather? Are you here?" She said, knocking hopefully on the door to his study.

The door opened just as she was about to knock a second time. The shock of white hair and kindly face that emerged made her smile. The older man smiled in return.

"Grandfather, can I safely assume that Mother forgot to write that I was coming?"

"I would say so, Marilyn. Else, someone would have been out to greet you earlier…"

"I do believe that Mrs. Macready would have tried to run me off. I tell you, she doesn't like me very well."

"She doesn't like anyone that knows as much or more about the house than she does."

Marilyn laughed at the matter-of-fact statement. "You have a point there." She muttered amidst giggles. "It's good to see you again, Grandfather."

The old man smiled, with laughter in his eyes. Marilyn hugged him, deciding then and there that she would make the best of her time here, especially since this would probably be the near the last summer she spent in this house, since she was going into twelfth form next year, and then soon enough would be going off to university. As the thought crossed her mind, she hugged her grandfather tighter and decided to be content with being considered a child for just a little longer.

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**Introductory Author's Note****:** I created a forum for this. Go to my profile, then click on the forums link and then on the forum with the same title as the fic. It should be the first topic, titled The Important Things To Know.


	2. Chapter 1: Extra Guests

**Disclaimer:** I own nothing of Narnia, none of the characters, none of the ideas, none of the places, none of the anything. The only thing I own is my OC. Everything else is the property of the estate of CS Lewis.

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_**Imagination, Reality, and the Space Between**_

_**Chapter One: Extra Guests**_

After nearly a month in her grandfather's house, Marilyn was becoming a bit restless. Though the weather was fair most days and there was a myriad of things to do out of doors, the weight of the events that were taking place at home pressed heavily on Marilyn. The bombing of London was getting worse, and now they (though Marilyn had to admit she wasn't quite sure who 'they' actually was) were evacuating children from the cities. This worried Marilyn more than anything else, because her best friend, Anna, lived within the city, and with all the children being sent to a variation of locales, who knew where she would end up. Needless to say, the wireless didn't make things out to be going particularly well (neither did the papers for that matter).

The fact the weather had decided to take a foul turn and that for five days of the past week it had rained for at least half of the day did not help much, in fact, if anything, it made matters worse. There was little to do in the house when it was raining. For the first time, Marilyn was glad her mother had made her take up needlepoint as a 'ladylike' hobby. It was nearly the only thing to do in the house since she was alone most of the time.

She had taken to sleeping in, just so she had less time to pass in a day. Her mother would have hated that she was doing that, but, no one at the house seemed to care. In addition to sleeping later, Marilyn had also taken to doing needlepoint while sitting on the window seat in the library. She had set the little basket that held the various coloured threads she used and her current project. She had taken to working on pillowslips while listening to the wireless in the library.

On one day when the rain was particularly bad and the wireless was more static than anything, Marilyn overheard Mrs. Macready talking to one of the maids. It hadn't been that she had intended to eavesdrop, but she had gotten up to turn off the wireless as the static was becoming rather annoying and could hear them talking.

"I do feel bad for the children in the cities, but must the Professor take in more? Honestly, four more children in the house? They'll be underfoot something awful. His granddaughter alone is bad enough."

That had been Mrs. Macready. Even if Marilyn hadn't been able to identify her by voice the last statement would have given it away.

"Oh, I don't know Mrs. Macready. She's not a bad girl. Besides she's been out of the way most of the past month. But, it surely won't be too bad. After all, it isn't as if they'll be staying forever."

Marilyn suddenly wished she knew the maids better. She knew them in passing, but she couldn't tell who was speaking.

Mrs. Macready had merely huffed in response, and they had both walked away. Marilyn stood at the door for a long moment, contemplating the fact that more children were coming to the house.

That had been a week and a half ago, and in the afternoon on that particular day, Mrs. Macready had left to go to the train station to collect the other children. Marilyn had been rather looking forward to it, not because she was glad that they had been evacuated, but because it would be nice to have someone to talk to.

Within the same hour, Marilyn could faintly hear the opening of the front door. She quickly put away the book she had been reading and headed towards the stairwell. By the time they were in earshot, she could hear Mrs. Macready in the midst of setting forth some rules for the others to follow (technically Marilyn was supposed to follow them as well, but Marilyn tended to ignore Mrs. Macready if given the opportunity which was probably why the woman disliked her so)

"No improper use of the dumbwaiter." the housekeeper said, before pausing and starting again in a higher pitch. "No touchin' of the historical artifacts."

Marilyn stifled a laugh. So the other's had apparently done something to set the woman off within their first half an hour or so with her. It was really quite laughable.

"… no disturbin' of the Professor." Mrs. Macready said. Not a moment after that, Marilyn could hear footsteps on the stairs.

Mrs. Macready led the others up the stairs, each head appearing in quick succession, straight past Marilyn farther down the passage. Marilyn followed, hanging back a little.

"This'll be the room for you two girls," Marilyn could hear Mrs. Macready say. "And that one there is for the boys."

The housekeeper then swiftly turned on her heel and left the way she had come, leaving four rather flabbergasted faces behind. 'Apparently they hadn't expected for her to be quite so personable' Marilyn thought sarcastically to herself. She looked over the others, but before she had a chance to introduce herself, the smallest one, and presumably the youngest, burst forth with a question that Marilyn hadn't been expecting.

"Were you evacuated here too?" the little girl asked, either not noticing or ignoring the stern glance from her sister.

"Well… um. Yes, I suppose. My mother sent me here when the raids had just started… The Professor's my grandfather. I'm Marilyn, by the way." Marilyn said, offering her hand.

The little girl smiled, and set down her suitcase to take the proffered hand. "I'm Lucy Pevensie. That's my sister Susan, and my brothers, Peter and Edmund." The girl said enthusiastically.

"Well, it's very nice to meet you all. I suppose I should let you all get unpacked. I just wanted to introduce myself before suppertime." Marilyn said.

Lucy waved as Marilyn walked away. "Nice to meet you too!" she called out as they all trooped into their respective rooms.

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**Author's Note: **I had intended to post this at the same time I posted the prologue, but alas, there was a read error on the file that caused me to have to rewrite the whole thing. At any rate, if you've made it this far (and weren't scared away by that monster of a note last chapter) I'd very much appreciate it if you left a review. Any thoughts on the piece are very appreciated, and constructive criticism is always nice to get. Thanks and happy reading,

ElvenSailorGirl (ESG)


	3. Chapter 2: Exploration

**Disclaimer:** I own nothing of Narnia, none of the characters, none of the ideas, none of the places, none of the anything. The only thing I own is my OC. Everything else is the property of the estate of CS Lewis.

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_**Imagination, Reality, and the Space Between**_

_**Chapter Two: Exploration**_

The next morning at breakfast time, because Marilyn had indeed dragged herself out of bed in time for breakfast figuring that she could talk to the other children and the hours would pass a bit faster, it was raining quite vigorously. The little Pevensie girl looked disappointed; apparently they had planned something that had involved going outside at some time the night before. With breakfast done, all five of the children were leaving the dining room, which was some distance away from the bedrooms and everything else.

The five talked a bit as they walked up the staircase, with better introductions before supper the night before Marilyn at least knew all their names and that she was the same age as the eldest boy, Peter. Once upstairs, the dark-headed one, Edmund shook his head.

"Of course, it _would_ be raining!" He said angrily, slouching back against the wall of the passageway.

"Oh, do stop complaining Ed." Susan said, rolling her eyes even though he wasn't watching. "It isn't all bad. Marilyn says there's a library around here and there's the wireless. And besides it'll likely let up in an hour or so."

Neither Edmund nor Lucy looked thrilled at the prospect of spending the morning in the library, but they didn't say anything. However, they both visibly showed their relief when Peter said: "Well, I'm going to explore the house."

"I suppose that's better than doing nothing." Susan said, knowing that she really was the only one who really enjoyed the prospect of the library.

Lucy, who was quite excited by the idea, turned to Marilyn. "Do want to come with us? You could be our guide."

Marilyn laughed. "I'd most likely be a poor guide. I still get myself lost here, even though I've come to the house every summer for the past six years. That's why I spend most of my time in the library or my room. Those are the places I don't get lost going to."

Lucy laughed, but appointed her guide to the expedition anyway. Though the others walked ahead of her, Marilyn tried to tell them what was in all the rooms before they would open the doors. After awhile she realized that she had altogether forgotten what was in most of the rooms.

They looked in about half a dozen spare bedrooms and after the fourth or fifth, Marilyn sighed exasperatedly.

"I've no idea why there are this many spare bedrooms, there's rarely any company that stays here. It's a bit overdone if you ask me."

They went on, coming through the long room with the suit of armour in it. There were a dozen or so pictures on the walls of the room though the armour itself had four windows at its back, and each of the middle two contained a small stained glass design in the upper part of the pane. The paintings were various landscapes, none of which really went together.

As they passed through the Armour Room, they next came to the Green Room. The curtains, furniture, even the walls had been wallpapered in green. In the far corner of the room sat a large harp, which was a sort of tarnished silver colour.

"Whose harp was this?" Susan asked curiously, walking over to take a closer look.

"I don't really know to tell you the truth." Marilyn said. "I suppose it might be my grandmother's but I never met her so I can't really know."

"Couldn't you just ask the Professor?"

"Well, I suppose so, but it seems a rather pointless question to ask, and besides, I don't think he really knows half of what is in the house anymore. I figure when people come to tour your house one of two things has happened. Either you live in a very boring town or you have enough things to make your house more of an art gallery than a house." Marilyn replied shrugging

The others laughed, and they all headed out of the room. It didn't take too much longer to find the library, which was, in actuality, several interconnected rooms. However, besides the initial interest in the fact most of the books were older than the professor and were larger than any other book they had seen, there was very little to really look at in the library, though Marilyn did make a point to ask them not to touch her sewing basket which was in the third room on the floor beside the window seat.

It wasn't much longer until they came to a mostly empty room that only contained an admittedly, rather large, wardrobe. The wood was a rather deep colour different from any of the other furnishings in the rooms they had come through, but aside from that and the carvings on the front (particularly the door, where a tree was carved in the center) there was little remarkable about it.

"Nothing there!" Peter said, and Marilyn nodded, and they all turned and left. Or so they thought.

Not a moment later (in fact they weren't but a few feet into the passageway) Lucy came running out from the room with the wardrobe shouting "It's alright! I've come back!"

"What are you talking about Lucy?" Susan asked, turning around to look at her sister.

Lucy looked curious for a moment then asked: "Haven't you been wondering where I was?"

Peter laughed. "So you've been hiding then? Poor old Lu, hiding and nobody noticed! You're going to have to hide longer than that if you want people to start looking for you."

Lucy's expression became more confused. "But I've been away for hours. It was just after breakfast when I went into the wardrobe and I had tea and all sorts of things have happened."

Peter, Edmund, and Susan all looked and one another and then at Marilyn, who merely shrugged and lifted up her hands in a sort of gesture as if to say 'She's your sister'.

"Batty!" Edmund said, tapping a finger to his forehead. Susan rolled her eyes at Edmund then shook her head at Lucy.

"Lucy, don't be silly, we've only just come out of that room a moment ago and you were there then."

"You aren't being silly at all, are you Lu?" Peter said, "You're just making up a story for fun, aren't you?"

Lucy shook her head adamantly. "I'm not. It's a magic wardrobe. There's a wood inside and it's snowing. There's a faun and a Witch and it's called Narnia." She grabbed Peter by the hand and tugged on his arm. "Come and see."

So they trooped back into the room with the wardrobe, and they looked at it, pulling back the coats, and tapping on the wood at the back.

"Alright Lucy, you've had your fun. We half-believed you too." Peter said.

"But I wasn't lying. It was there!" Lucy said strongly.

"Lucy, that's really enough. The only wood in here is the back of the wardrobe." Susan said.

The disbelief on all their faces was enough to make Lucy go red in the face and burst into tears. Lucy ran out, ahead of the others, and back the way they had come. Marilyn looked after her.

"Does she play games like that often?"

Peter and Susan both shook their heads. "Not usually. She's normally very honest." said Peter.

"Oh. Did you want to see more of the house or –" Marilyn trailed off looking again in the direction Lucy had run off.

"One of us probably should go after her." Susan said, looking at Edmund and Peter.

"It's alright. You all can go after her now. The rest of the house isn't going to get up and leave or anything."

The others agreed, and that was the end of the exploration of the house.

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**Author's Note**: I really don't have much to say at the moment except for if you've made it this far, please review. Thanks and happy reading,

ESG


	4. Chapter 3: What You Say

**Disclaimer:** I own nothing of Narnia, none of the characters, none of the ideas, none of the places, none of the anything. The only thing I own is my OC. Everything else is the property of the estate of CS Lewis.

**Reviewer Thanks:**

**brezzybrez: **Well, as I'm trying to write out my chapters ahead of when I plan to post, it makes it easier to post before I plan too. Glad you're enjoying it.

**Dearheart: **I just have to thank you for your review. I'm sure by now you've read my Review Reply, but I just have to say I was having a really bad day the day you reviewed and your review really perked me up. So, thanks.

Onward to the story now!

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_**Imagination, Reality and the Space Between**_

_**Chapter **__**Three: What You Say**_

Lucy Pevensie was unhappy for the next week after her 'trip' into the wardrobe. Marilyn had to admit that she thought that if the girl had been making it all up it wouldn't have caused her near the amount of distress that it seemed to have. But she didn't know the Pevensies all that well, though she was getting to know them and so far Lucy seemed to be very truthful in general, but still she supposed she couldn't really know for sure.

All five of them had spent the last few days together, since the five of them were the only children there. Marilyn had found that she and Susan got on rather well, in fact, they all got on rather well, and Lucy had decided that Marilyn would be her new friend, simply because she seemed slightly more inclined to believe Lucy's story than the others seemed to be.

Susan and Peter had talked to Marilyn about it two days after the fact. Susan had seemed almost disappointed.

"Lucy said you believed her about the wardrobe yesterday." Susan said, sitting in one of the chairs in the third library room.

Marilyn shrugged and sat in the other, since Peter was sitting on the window seat. "I just said that if she believed it then it was alright. I never said I thought there was anything in there."

"You really shouldn't encourage her, you know." Peter said, sitting with his hands on his knees.

"Well, I'd rather encourage her than have her mope all summer. Honestly, I don't see what's so wrong with playing pretend. Don't tell me neither of you did when you were her age. I know I did…"

"That's not the point." Susan said shaking her head. "The point is that she really believes it. It isn't healthy to pretend things like that."

Marilyn shrugged again. "I don't know… Honestly, if I could pretend there wasn't a war on and convince myself of it, I'm not sure it would be a bad thing. They tell us everything'll be alright, but I'm not so sure. I mean, now London's being evacuated, and my brothers and father are off fighting and I'm nervous and scared about what could happen. Part of me wants to pretend it isn't real." She said, her breath catching softly on unshed tears at the thought.

"Do you think that's why she's doing this?" Peter asked, walking over to stand behind Susan's chair.

"Well, I don't really know, but I figured so. I mean, your father's off fighting in the war too, right? Maybe pretending there's a magical land for her to explore is her way of dealing with it."

Susan craned her head backwards to look at Peter. They shrugged at one another silently, neither one having thought of it that way before.

"I hadn't really thought of it like that. I suppose I'm much more worried that she might actually be going batty as Edmund suggested the other day." Susan said at length rising to leave the room. "But, if she says anything more about it, would you please discourage it? If that's why she's made it up then it really isn't healthy."

Marilyn nodded solemnly. "I suppose I can do that, if you think it'll help."

"I hope it will at any rate." Susan said, leaving the door open as she walked out of the room

"Are your brothers really fighting in the war?" Peter asked once Susan had gone.

Marilyn raised an eyebrow at the question but answered anyway. "Yes. Edward and James both."

"They can't be much older than us then…" he said quietly.

"Well, Edward is twenty-six and James is nearly twenty. So, they are a bit older than we are." Marilyn paused for a moment. "You wanted to go and fight, didn't you?"

Peter looked at her silently before laughing a bit self-consciously while rubbing the back of his neck. "It was that obvious?"

"Not really, it's just that that's the only reason I could think for you to ask that." Marilyn said slowly. "Alright, it was just a tad obvious." Marilyn held two fingers a short distance apart as an illustration.

"I guess it's just that I want to be of some use, not just…"

"Stuck in some old man's house shielded as if you were a child?"

Peter blinked. "Yes. That's it exactly."

"I can understand the feeling. Mum sent me away before the evacuation started because she was terrified that something would happen to me. And yet I feel kind of useless here. There's little enough that we can do to help anyway, but there's even less here."

"But you're a girl. It's different for you."

Marilyn raised an eyebrow for the second time. He hastened to correct himself. "Not that I think you don't want to help… it's just… Oh. Just forget I said anything." He said wincing at his attempt to dig himself out of a hole

Marilyn laughed and turned to leave. "Alright, I suppose I can this time." She stopped at the doorframe. "But for what it's worth, Peter, I think you would have made a fine soldier."

For the rest of the week and for the week following that, there had been little talk of the war or the wardrobe. The group spent most of the time out of doors, as the weather was fine and it was much easier to find your way back to the house if you got lost outside. It was marvellous fun for most of them (Lucy was still unhappy but there wasn't much they could do about that) until the next rainy day came round.

By that time, there was no use in exploring the house because they all knew how to get to the necessary places, but there wasn't much to do inside. So for the better part of the morning they sat in the library and all silently hoped that the rain would stop by lunch. However, lunch came and passed with the rain giving no sign of stopping. At that point, they were all feeling a bit stir-crazy, so when Lucy suggested they play hide-and-seek, it took no time at all for everyone to agree.

The first couple of games were unremarkable. Marilyn volunteered to be "it" first, and then Peter was "it" for the second game. However at the end of the third game (Susan was "it" that time) while they were all standing in the long room with the suit of armour Lucy burst out excitedly.

"It's there! It's really there!"

"What are you talking about, Lucy?" Marilyn couldn't help but ask, having totally forgotten about the magical land within the wardrobe.

"Narnia! It's all in the wardrobe like I told you! This time Edmund went too, we met each other in the wood."

The others turned toward Edmund looking for confirmation of Lucy's story.

Edmund just shrugged. "I was just playing along, pretending that her country in the wardrobe was real. There isn't anything there."

Lucy, who had been looking at Edmund hopefully, looked crestfallen once Edmund started to speak. Once he was finished, she ran out of the room, not quite crying, but well on her way.

"That was perfectly horrid of you, Edmund!" Susan said.

"It was. Ever since Lucy started this nonsense about the wardrobe you've been awful to Lucy and now you're playing games with her about it and setting her off again. I think you're doing it simply out of spite." Peter said angrily.

"But it is nonsense!" Edmund said rather taken aback at his brother's tone.

Peter rolled his eyes and gestured widely. "Of course its nonsense, but what good do you think it'll do teasing her about it one day, then encouraging her the next?"

"But I thought – I thought – " Edmund said, not sure what to say.

"Honestly, you two, having a row here isn't going to help. Come on, let's go find Lucy." Susan said reasonably.

The four in the room (closer to three, as Marilyn had been uncomfortably inching towards the doorway Lucy had run out of before while Peter and Edmund were shouting at one another) left, and headed down the passage to find Lucy sobbing, with her arms wrapped around none other than the Professor, Marilyn's grandfather. He had a bemused expression on his face, and just as the three saw them (Edmund had not come with them to find Lucy), Mrs. Macready shouted as she came into view.

"You are one shenanigan shy of – " She stopped dead, seeing the Professor. "Professor, I'm sorry. I told them you were not to be disturbed."

"It's alright Mrs. Macready. I'm sure there's an explanation. But first I think this one" Here he extricated himself from Lucy's arms "is in need of a little hot chocolate."

Lucy went off with Mrs. Macready without a fuss and the others attempted to walk away quietly, but failed in that regard and were called back by the Professor clearing his throat. Peter and Susan turned back, though Marilyn didn't at first.

"You too, Marilyn" he said.

Marilyn came back wincing slightly at being called out. The three followed him wordlessly to his study where he began to fix his pipe. Susan and Peter stood in front of his desk, while Marilyn walked over to the far corner of the room and stood silently, wondering why she was made to come too.

"You seem to have upset the delicate internal balance of my housekeeper." He said matter-of-factly.

"We're sorry, sir. It won't happen again." Peter said, standing uncomfortably with a look on his face that clearly said that he hoped that was the end of it. Susan, however, felt the need to say more.

"It's our sister, sir. Lucy."

"The weeping girl."

"Yes, sir. She's upset."

"Hence the weeping."

"It's nothing. We can handle it." Peter broke in.

"Oh, I can see that." the Professor said in a bemused voice.

Susan looked at Peter for a moment before speaking again. "She thinks she's found a magical land in the upstairs wardrobe."

Marilyn noted the shift in her grandfather's expression. She wasn't at all surprised when he asked Susan "What did you say?"

Peter replied that time however. "Um… The wardrobe upstairs, Lucy thinks she's found a forest inside."

Susan merely nodded as they took a seat on the couch in the room.

"What was it like?" the Professor asked.

"Like talking to a lunatic." Susan said, assuming he meant to ask what it was like talking to Lucy about the forest in the wardrobe.

"No, no. Not her. The forest."

Peter and Susan both looked shocked. "You're not saying you believe her?" Peter asked incredulously.

"You don't?" was the reply.

Susan blinked. "Well, of course not. I mean, logically, it's impossible."

Marilyn watched as her grandfather shook his head and mumbled to himself for a moment.

"Edmund said they were only pretending." Peter said, even though he had already had a row with Edmund over that fact.

"And he's normally the more truthful one?" the professor asked.

"No… this would be the first time." Peter said quietly.

"Well then, if she isn't mad, and she's not lying, then logically we must assume she's telling the truth."

Peter blinked, confused. "Are you saying we should just believe her?"

"She's your sister. You're a family. You might try acting like one."

Susan and Peter looked at one another, still a bit confused at how they could possibly just believe there was a wood inside a wardrobe other than the back. A moment later they had gone, having been dismissed by her grandfather and Marilyn moved out of the corner.

"May I go now?"

Her grandfather looked at the sternly for a moment. "Why didn't you tell me about there being a wood in the wardrobe?"

"I've never seen one myself. For all I knew she was just pretending." Marilyn said defensively.

"Do you believe her?" He asked curiously.

"I suppose so. I mean, I don't suppose it matters either way. After all, if she's the only one who gets into the land, she might as well be pretending… but I'm sure that she's convinced it's really there, so that's enough to say that it exists for her." Marilyn said at length.

Her grandfather smiled to himself about what Marilyn couldn't say, but he didn't say anything to her. Marilyn stood still for a moment, before asking if she could go again. He gave a wave of his hand and she scampered out the door quickly, closing it quietly behind her.

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**Author's Note: **I always thought that it would make sense to pretend there was some magical land during wartime. It seems to me that it would make life easier to handle for a child if they can pretend it isn't happening at all. So that's where that conversation stems from. Also, I love that scene in the film with the Professor far too much to drop it in favor of the book version, so I permuted it to fit the book situation. Hopefully it worked. If you've read this far, please drop a review, even if it's just to tell me that you did/didn't like the chapter. Thanks and happy reading,

ESG


	5. Chapter 4: Into the Wardrobe

**Disclaimer:** I own nothing of Narnia, none of the characters, none of the ideas, none of the places, none of the anything. The only thing I own is my OC. Everything else is the property of the estate of CS Lewis.

* * *

_**Imagination, Reality, and the Space Between**_

_**Chapter Four: Into the Wardrobe**_

A few hours after breakfast the next day, Marilyn watched the other four children from the window, the elder three were playing cricket, and the youngest was sitting under a tree reading. She had been invited to join them, but had begged off because she was abominable at cricket and didn't really feel like making a fool of herself. Of course, the other part of it was that she thought that after yesterday's row, they needed to spend some time as a family. So she had sat reading in her room until she heard them laughing outside. That sound had provoked her watch. Watching the four of them made her miss the years when her brothers were both at home. The three of them had had such games that it was hard to believe Edward was ten years older than Marilyn. She smiled to herself, wistfully remembering playing cricket with her brothers, (and being abominable at it, but that wasn't the point) until the sound of shattering glass made her jump. Taking one last look out the window, she saw the four Pevensie children running into the house full-tilt, the youngest girl's book lying on the lawn forgotten. She wondered how the smaller Edmund could have possibly hit the ball hard enough for it to get to the second story window on the far end of the house. Regardless of how it happened, she was admittedly curious of the damage.

In no time at all, she reached the area where the broken window must have been, considering the argument going on as she approached quietly. The two brothers were standing in front of a toppled suit of armour and a smattering of variously coloured glass with the cricket ball in the middle to the side.

"Well done, Ed." Peter said sarcastically.

"You bowled it!" Edmund shouted defensively.

Marilyn couldn't help but laugh. It was so very reminiscent of her two brothers, though of course, her brothers didn't have much of a chance to fight like that with a seven year age gap between them.

Susan turned when she heard the other girl's laughter. "You won't tell—"

Marilyn shook her head before Susan finished the question. "Why would I? Though, in all honesty, I think it's a bit obvious what happened and who did it."

As both Susan and Peter opened their mouths to reply, the five heard a quite unwelcome sound, Mrs. Macready calling up the stairs angrily.

"The Macready!" Susan said in a voice that indicated she was a more than a little frightened by the woman.

Marilyn's eyes widened, and she swallowed audibly. "That's just what I need to make this summer just like every other; to get in an inordinate amount of trouble that has her threatening to write to my mother." She muttered dejectedly, hearing the sound of the housekeeper's shoes on the stairs.

The Pevensie children looked at one another then took off at a run, with Peter bringing up the rear. Marilyn just stood still in a sort of resigned shock for a moment, before the boy grabbed her hand saying "Come on!"

His voice shook her out of her reverie, and she ran along with them, as they tried door after door until finally one opened. Inside the room was the apple wood wardrobe that had been there for as long as Marilyn could remember, with the illustrations of the story her grandfather told her the first summer she spent in the house.

Edmund ran up to the wardrobe and gestured inside. Marilyn blinked in surprise at the unspoken suggestion, and Susan voiced the thought that ran in the back of Marilyn's mind. "You've got to be joking." But as the footsteps got closer, she thought it was less of a bad idea than before, and apparently Susan's mind changed as well, as all five children made an attempt to squeeze into the wardrobe. Peter, the last one in, closed the door most of the way, before pushing back a bit, causing everyone to shift backwards which in turn led to a lot more shifting and an equal amount of cries of "Get off my toes!" and "Stop shoving!".

However, they never seemed to find a back to the wardrobe. Marilyn was more than a little surprised at the fact that somehow all five of them had fit in the piece of furniture alone. But after toppling into the snow aside Susan and Peter, she was amazed.

"My Lord…" She breathed, just as Susan was muttering "Impossible."

Marilyn stood still, staring at the snowy landscape before her as the Pevensie siblings talked amongst themselves. It was absolutely beautiful in that way that winter is. She paid the Pevensies no mind at all until Susan suggested they go back. Marilyn's eyes had shot back to the four siblings just as Peter said for Lucy to decide.

"I'd like you all to meet Mr. Tumnus!" Lucy said excitedly.

"Well, then Mr. Tumnus it is!" Peter said smiling at the obvious excitement on his youngest sister's face.

"We can't go hiking in the snow dressed like this." Susan remarked sensibly, just as Peter emerged from the wardrobe a second time, this time with his arm laden with coats, telling Susan that the professor wouldn't mind them using them, since they technically weren't being taken out of the wardrobe.

Marilyn took a look back into the wardrobe. The daylight from the cracked opening of the wardrobe door streamed in amongst the coats. 'That'll be useful in finding our way back.' Marilyn thought to herself as she reached out for one of the coats.

At that same moment, she heard a throat clearing, and turned to find Peter holding out a very long coat (not that they all weren't) with one hand.

"Oh!" Marilyn exclaimed, taking the proffered garment. "Sorry about that."

"It's alright."

A moment later, the five were trekking through the snow in the direction Lucy recalled having gone to get to Mr. Tumnus' house. Within five minutes or so, the group had come upon a lamppost in the middle of a small clearing.

"Oh!" Lucy exclaimed, excitedly. "This is where I first met Mr. Tumnus." She walked around to the far side of the post as she spoke. "I was over here, and he was over there." She finished with a grin.

Marilyn looked at the lamppost oddly for a moment, a look that wasn't missed by any of the Pevensies.

"What's wrong?" Susan asked quietly looking between the girl and the lamppost.

"I never believed it was REAL. This is… is…" Marilyn stopped, shaking her head. "Grandfather used to tell me this story when I was younger, about the creation of a world called – oh I forget what it's called. But in the story, there's this evil immortal woman that somehow got into England and then was brought to this new world AS it was being created by accident. She had broken a street lamp to bits back in England, and when she threw the bit of the lamppost she'd been carrying with her down, it grew like a tree or some other live thing."

"So, what makes you think this is the same place?" Edmund asked from behind her in a sceptical tone of voice.

"This lamp has roots. Like it grew here instead of being placed here." Marilyn pointed to the base of the lamp. "Which means this Narnia must be that world."

"What else happens in the story? You can tell us as we go!" Lucy said happily.

"I don't really remember a lot of the story… It's been nine years since I heard it."

"Try please?" Lucy asked in a tone of voice that Marilyn couldn't refuse.

"Oh alright, I'll try, but if it doesn't make sense… don't say I didn't warn you."

Lucy smiled and led them all along, as Marilyn began recounting the story of the creation of the world. There were multiple interruptions, many to ask unimportant questions like: "But what were the rings made of?" and "Why did the first Queen have a different name in the end?" (Both of which were asked by Susan), which took up enough time that Marilyn was just getting to the end as they were about to round the corner which Lucy said Mr. Tumnus' house was just around.

As they made it around the corner, Lucy stopped dead. The others looked at her oddly; before Peter questioned "Lu?" just as Lucy ran off towards what appeared to be a door that had been broken in. The other four followed, sprinting to catch up to Lucy as she ran into the house.

Once inside, it was obvious there had been a struggle. If there was a piece of unbroken furniture or china in the house it would have been a surprise. Upon on post a piece of parchment was tacked, presumably a note with a reason for the state of the house, not that it was legible from where the five children now stood.

"Who would do something like this?" Lucy asked quietly, taking in the wreckage that had once been the home of Mr. Tumnus.

Peter reached out and ripped the parchment off the wall and began reading.

"The Faun Tumnus is hereby charged with high treason against Her Imperial Majesty, Jadis, Queen of Narnia, for comforting her enemies and fraternizing with humans. Signed, Maugrim, Captain of the Secret Police. Long live the Queen."

Marilyn blinked. "Well, I have a feeling that doesn't put us in a very good position…"

"I think you're right, Marilyn. We really should go back now." Susan said, mostly to Peter and Lucy.

"But what about Mr. Tumnus?" Lucy asked, sounding distraught over the idea of leaving without helping her friend.

"We could call the police." Peter suggested optimistically.

Susan shook the parchment at him. "Peter, these are the police. I don't think they're going to help."

"We will think of something though, Lucy." Peter said.

"Perhaps they didn't catch him… maybe he got away." Marilyn said thoughtfully.

"What makes you think that?" Susan asked with a furrowed brow.

"Well, if they had caught him, why wouldn't the notice say 'arrested and charged with' instead of just 'charged with'?" Marilyn said gesturing at the parchment that Susan still held.

"Why would it matter if he got away?" Edmund said, speaking for the first time since their arrival at the house. "I mean, after all, he is a criminal."

"You don't understand, do you Ed? I'm the human he helped." Lucy said softly.

In that moment, the reality of the situation they were in began to sink in. Marilyn supposed they could go back, but it almost seemed wrong to not do anything at all, especially since it all came back to Lucy's entry into the wardrobe. But at this point Marilyn knew that what happened wasn't really her choice, since she knew she couldn't get back to the wardrobe on her own since she hadn't really been paying attention to how they had gotten there. So in the end it all came down to whether or not Lucy was absolute in her desire to help her newfound Narnian friend.

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**Author's Note:** Yes, Marilyn is telling them the story of _The Magician's Nephew_, but a very bad version missing most of the important details. Such as the fact Aslan was the lion that created the world and that Aslan is a lion at all (Since them not knowing that is a specific point in the book…) I did rearrange some of the conversation at Tumnus' house., just because at first I couldn't remember the order (and believe it or not, I'm trying to do this with out consulting the book or film every time I use a scene from either of those sources) and ended up liking my version even though it's in a wonky order. Anyhow, if you've read this far, please leave a review about what you did/didn't like about the chapter.

Thanks and happy reading,

ESG


	6. Chapter 5: Surprising Allies

**Disclaimer:** I own nothing of Narnia, none of the characters, none of the ideas, none of the places, none of the anything. The only thing I own is my OC. Everything else is the property of the estate of CS Lewis.

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_**Imagination, Reality, and the Space Between**_

_**Chapter Five**__**: Surprising Allies**_

The children were still standing in the wreckage of Mr. Tumnus' house, when they heard a noise that sounded oddly like a "psst". However, once they had all trooped outside to see where the noise had come from, they didn't see anything but a single bird perched on one of the lower braches of a nearby tree.

Susan furrowed her brow. "Did that bird just 'psst' us?" The others merely shrugged in reply, unsure and quite unwilling to admit that it was really the only possibility as there was absolutely no other living creature in sight.

At that same moment, there was a rustling noise coming from beyond a couple of snow covered rocks. The rustling noise continued, drawing closer as they all looked around, frightened and confused. After a moment, a small animal popped out from behind one of the rocks.

Lucy blinked. "It's – It's a beaver."

Indeed it was a beaver. It sniffed around for a moment, and Peter inched closer to it, extending his hand and clicking his tongue.

"I'm not sure beavers respond to…" Marilyn said, trailing off as she saw the beaver come closer.

Within a moment, the beaver stood up on its hind legs, and did something every unexpected. It spoke.

"I ain't gonna smell it, if that's what you want." The beaver said looking at Peter's hand distastefully.

Everyone but Lucy was shocked to hear it speak. Marilyn attempted to smother a gasp by clapping her hand over her mouth, but didn't succeed. Both Edmund's and Susan's eyes widened in surprise, and Peter mumbled a shocked apology to the creature. Lucy, however, merely giggled. Her giggles were quickly put a stop to when the beaver turned to her and said her name. She stepped forward tentatively, murmuring an affirmative answer. And seemingly out of nowhere the beaver produced a white handkerchief with the initials LP embroidered on it.

"Hey, that's the hanky I gave to Mr. Tum—" Lucy said, taking the square of cloth.

"Tumnus. He got it to me just before they took him."

Lucy looked alarmed. "Is he alright?" she asked worriedly.

The beaver looked around and then motioned for them to follow him, whispering "Further in" as he did.

Lucy and Peter made to follow the beaver, but Susan stopped them by calling out.

"What are you doing?" She asked.

Edmund nodded in agreement. "She's right. How do we know we can trust him?"

Peter shrugged. "He said he knows the faun."

"He's a beaver. He shouldn't be saying **anything**." Susan said seriously.

At that point, the beaver popped back into view. "Everything all right?" he asked.

Peter nodded. "We were just talking."

The beaver looked agitated and whispered again. "That's better left for safer quarters."

Lucy looked around, biting her lower lip. "He means the trees."

All five of them looked at one another. Susan suggested again that they go back, but Lucy wanted to know what happened to Mr. Tumnus. After a moment or arguing, Marilyn murmured to herself. "This is ridiculous" and started off after the beaver.

Peter and Susan both called out at the same time with the same question: "Where are you going?"

Marilyn pointed after the beaver. "After him. I'm not going to stand in the snow all day while you all argue about whether or not to go back. I'm cold, and since I can't find my way back to the wardrobe alone, I figure the quickest way to somewhere warm is to follow him." She said matter-of-factly, before turning and continuing on.

A few moments later, the other four caught up to her. Lucy smiled at her as she caught up, mouthing 'thank you'. Marilyn just smiled and nodded. She hadn't really followed the beaver to help Lucy convince the others, but if Lucy wanted to think she did, there was no real reason to say otherwise. They followed the beaver mostly in silence. They walked through the snow surrounded by small snow covered trees until they came to this side of a mountain which had a narrow passageway carved into it through an archway that looked to have been carved there even though the flat top above the peak of the arch indicated there had been something else there at one time.

"This is… absolutely amazing." Marilyn breathed. "Absolutely amazing." She had slowed her pace a bit, taking the scenery in. That fact was not missed by the beaver.

"Come on. We don't want to get caught out here after nightfall." It said. Marilyn blinked, but starting walking at a normal pace again.

"What comes out after nightfall?" She asked curiously, but the beaver never answered.

The passage through the mountain got narrower as they went. Eventually, they had to go through single file, as the passage would barely accommodate one person at a time, let alone two. It took mere minutes after that to reach the other side, where once oust the passage, they could all see a dam, twice the size of any depicted in schoolbooks with a stream of pale smoke coming out of a chimney.

"Ah, blimey! Looks like the old girl's got the kettle on. Nice cup o' Rosy Lee." The beaver said, sounding satisfied.

Lucy grinned. "It's lovely." She said politely, though she really did mean it.

The beaver sounded as though he were blushing when he replied. "It's merely a trifle. Still plenty to do. Ain't quite finished it yet. It'll look the business when it is, though."

They continued down the hill, and as they approached, they could hear a woman shouting. "Beaver, is that you? I've been worried sick. If I find out you've been out with Badger again—"

The voice stopped as they came around the corner. There was a female beaver standing outside the dam, with her paws over her mouth.

"Oh. Those aren't badgers. " She said, surprised. She walked closer, her tone changed from surprise before to a sort of subtle excitement. "Oh, I never thought I'd live to see this day."

The five children looked at her with blank expressions, not really understanding what she meant. Surely there was nothing impressive about them.

Mrs. Beaver (for from the first words out of her mouth, it was obvious she was the beaver's wife) mumbled something about her fur then turned on the Beaver. "You couldn't have given me ten minutes warning?" She said in an annoyed tone.

The beaver chuckled. "I'd have given you a week if I thought it would have helped." The glare he received was enough to make the children all chuckle as well.

Mrs. Beaver started inside. "Oh, come inside, and we'll see if we can't find you some food and some civilised company."

The children made to follow Mrs. Beaver in, the girls first, and then the boys, as Beaver himself warned them to watch their step.

Both Susan and Marilyn volunteered to help Mrs. Beaver, but the place was really far too small for that (as the dam was, of course, beaver-sized, not human-sized), so they resigned to sit and wait while Mrs. Beaver busied herself about the small kitchen.

In this time, Lucy took the chance to ask Beaver once more about what had happened to Mr. Tumnus. But he shook his head, and told her that such matters were best left unspoken about until after dinner.

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**Author's Note****:** This is a bit shorter than the last couple of chapters, but my whole aim in this chapter was to get to the beaver's house. I'm still deciding what all I want to touch on with the Beaver's as they give us quite a lot of exposition both in the book and film. At any rate, if you've made it this far, please do review. It'll be greatly appreciated. Thanks and happy reading,

ESG


	7. Chapter 6: The Beavers

**Disclaimer:** I own nothing of Narnia, none of the characters, none of the ideas, none of the places, none of the anything. The only thing I own is my OC. Everything else is the property of the estate of CS Lewis.

**Anonymous Review Replies:**

**Hpjedi1** - I'm very glad you're enjoying the story! Thanks for your review.

**pygmypuff** - Thank you for your review. It's so nice to hear that I'm not totally failing at trying to keep the dialogue appropriate for the geographic area. I'm glad you like the pacing, and rest assured that there will be lots more character development before the romance occurs.

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_**Imagination, Reality and the Space Between**_

_**Chapter Six: The Beavers**_

After dinner, which had been a lovely affair, all seven of the occupants in the small house (or small for the humans in the group) sat back with a cup of tea. Even the lovely food hadn't banished the thoughts about what they were going to do about Mr. Tumnus. Finally with cups in hand, the subject was broached a third time.

"Please, what happened to Mr. Tumnus?" Lucy asked, quite ready to have an answer to that particular question.

Mr. Beaver sipped his tea before responding. "They'll have taken him to the Witch's House. And you know what they say – there's few who go through them gates that come out again. They say that castle is full of statues, statues of people she's turned to stone."

"Isn't there anything we can do to help him?" Peter asked.

The awkward silence that followed indicated that there was little they could do.

"But there is hope, dear. Lots of hope." Mrs. Beaver said reassuringly, placing a paw on Lucy's arm.

Mr. Beaver corrected her quickly. "Oh yeah, there's a right bit more than hope." He said vigorously before dropping his voice an octave. "Aslan is on the move."

The name itself conjured up a well of feelings in each of the children, but they had little knowledge of what it meant. Marilyn furrowed her brow in thought, as along with a general feeling like when you drink tea when you're ill or laying on the lawn in the middle of a nice summer day, the name conjured up the feeling that she had forgotten something.

"Who's Aslan?" Susan asked.

Mr. Beaver blinked in disbelief, before laughing as if the question had been a joke. Only when Mrs. Beaver nudged him with her elbow did he stop and take a look at their faces. Nearly all showed genuine curiosity, except for Marilyn's which was stuck in a look of confusion and annoyance.

"Something wrong?" he asked her.

"Well, yes and no… That name makes me feel as if I've forgotten something important, but I have no idea what." She said.

Mr. Beaver shrugged. "Aslan is the Lord of the wood, and the king." Mr. Beaver said.

"But – couldn't the Witch turn Aslan to stone too?" Edmund asked from where he was sitting on the small staircase behind the table.

Mr. Beaver laughed again. "Turn _him_ to stone? The Witch probably couldn't even stand on her own two feet and look him in the face. At least, it'd be more than I'd expect of her. No, Aslan will put all to rights as it says in an old rhyme in these parts:

"_Wrong will be right, when Aslan comes in sight,_

_At the sound of his roar, sorrows will be no more,_

_When he bares his teeth, winter meets its death,_

_And when he shakes his mane, we shall have spring again."_

Though Marilyn was not completely focused on the conversation at hand as she was rather annoyed that she couldn't remember what she knew she had forgotten, she did hear 'When he shakes his mane…' out of the rhyme.

"Wait, just a moment." She said. "Is Aslan a man?"

Mr. Beaver turned a quizzical eye on her. "Of course he's not a man. He's the King of the wood and the son of the Emperor-beyond-the-Sea. Aslan is a lion – _the _Lion, the great Lion."

Marilyn looked at him blankly for a moment. Then it dawned on her that THAT had been what she had forgotten. "That was what I couldn't remember!" She said in a rather excited voice. "Aslan is the lion in the story!"

"A lion?" said Susan. "I'd been thinking he was a man. Is… is he quite safe?"

"If there's anyone who can appear before Aslan without their knees knocking, they're either braver than most or else just silly." Mrs. Beaver said simply.

"So he isn't safe then?" asked Lucy.

"Safe?" said Mr. Beaver in an incredulous voice. "'Course he isn't safe. But he is good. He's the King, I tell you."

Mrs. Beaver nodded. "You'll understand when you see him."

"But shall we? See him that is…" asked Susan.

Mr. Beaver nodded. "Of course you will. I'm going to take you to him. He's waiting for you near the Stone Table."

"He's waiting for us?" Lucy said haltingly.

"You're blooming joking. You must know about the prophecy." Mr. Beaver said.

"We don't know any prophecies at all." Susan said. When given a questioning look by Mr Beaver, Marilyn shook her head negatively.

Mr. Beaver sighed in resignation. "Look. Aslan's return, Tumnus' arrest, the secret police… It's all happening because of you."

"You're blaming us?" Susan asked indignantly.

"No! Not blaming. Thanking you." Mrs. Beaver said.

Mr Beaver nodded. "There's a prophecy:

"_When Adam's Flesh and Adam's Bone_

_Sits at Cair Paravel in throne_

_The evil time will be over and done_."

"You know, that doesn't really rhyme…" Susan said, earning herself an unnoticed rolling of Peter's eyes in her general direction.

"Yeah, I know it don't, but you're kinda missing the point." Mr. Beaver said, getting a bit worked up.

"But isn't the Witch human?" Peter asked.

Mr. Beaver shook his head. "She'd like us to believe it, and it's on that that se bases her claim to be Queen. But there isn't a drop of real human blood in her, and that's why she keeps an eye out for any humans in Narnia. She's been watching for you, and if she knew there were four of you she'd be more dangerous still."

"Technically, Mr. Beaver… there are five of us." Marilyn said.

"Yeah, but you have to have four to make five, don't you?" He replied.

She shrugged, and tilted her head in acknowledgement that it was indeed difficult to have five people if you didn't at first have four.

"But what does the fact that there are four of us have to do with anything?" Peter asked.

Mrs. Beaver answered the question quickly. "It has long been foretold that two Sons of Adam and two Daughters of Eve will defeat the White Witch and restore peace to Narnia."

"And you think we're the ones?" Peter said hesitantly.

"Well, you'd better be because Aslan's already fitted out your army."

"Our army?" Lucy repeated shocked.

"Mum sent us away so we wouldn't get caught up in a war." Susan whispered just loud enough for the others to hear (had it been a room scaled for humans, it was likely that only Peter would have heard her).

Peter turned to the Beavers "I think you've made a mistake. We're not heroes."

"We're from Finchley." Susan added.

"I'm not…" Marilyn muttered, but was given no mind.

"Thank you for your hospitality. But we really have to go." Susan said standing, with Peter following suit.

"But you can't just leave!" Mr. Beaver cried out.

"He's right." Lucy said softly. "We have to help Mr. Tumnus."

"It's out of our hands." Peter said to Lucy before addressing the Beavers. "I'm sorry but it was time we were all getting home. Ed?" He said turning around.

What he saw was a shock to all of them, since they hadn't been paying much attention to anything but the conversation. Edmund was nowhere to be seen.

"I'm gonna kill him." Peter said angrily.

"You may not have to" was Mr. Beaver's ominous reply. "Has Edmund ever been to Narnia before?"

Lucy nodded silently in reply.

"I think I know where he's gone. Follow me." Mr. Beaver said.

And with that there was a great deal of movement, tugging on coats and rushing out the door as quickly as they could, following Mr. Beaver out of the little dam and through the snowy wood up several hills until the company could see a great castle in the distance, and an tiny figure entering the open gates.

"Edmund!" Lucy called out.

"Shh! They'll hear you!" Mr. Beaver said sternly.

Only a moment later, Peter charged forward, but only had his hand grabbed by the hand by Mr. Beaver who tugged back with all his might.

"Get off!" Peter shouted at Mr. Beaver, shaking his hand to loosen his grip.

"Don't you see – You're playing right into her hands." Mr. Beaver said.

"We can't just let him go!" Susan said.

"He's our brother." added Lucy.

"He's the bait!" Mr. Beaver said, gesturing wildly. "The Witch wants all four of you."

"Why?" Peter said.

"The prophecy. Isn't that it, Mr. Beaver?" Marilyn murmured softly. The Beaver nodded.

"What?" Peter asked, confused.

"He said that in the prophecy there were four thrones. Four thrones for two Sons of Adam and two Daughters of Eve. If she's already got Edmund, and the three of you go after him, then she's got four. Two and two." Marilyn said.

"She wants to kill you!" Mr. Beaver said plainly.

At that moment, in the distance, there was the distinct sound of a gate slamming shut.

"This is all your fault!" Susan said turning on Peter.

"My fault?"

"None of this would have happened if you'd just listened to me in the first place."

"So you knew this would happen?"

"I didn't know what would happen, which is why we should have left while we still could."

"Stop it!" shouted Lucy. "This isn't going to help Edmund."

Mr. Beaver nodded solemnly. "She's right. Only Aslan can help your brother now."

"Then take us to him." Peter said in a resigned voice.

With that they were off back towards the dam, when the intentions of then journeying to the Stone Table – and Aslan.

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**Author's Note:** So… this is definitely an amalgamation of the book-verse and film-verse of the meeting with the beavers. This chapter is rather slack on description as it really is all about the exposition, just like it is in the book. I toyed with cutting it off in a few different places, (I think you can probably pick them out… They feel rather obvious to me) but I decided that this was a good spot for a scene break instead of carrying it on any longer. In the next chapter (or two) we get the Flight to the Ford ermm... Stone Table, I mean. Sorry, inner LotR nerd coming out there.

In any case, if you've read this far, I will greatly appreciate any reviews. Thanks and happy reading,

ESG


	8. Chapter 7: Flight

**Disclaimer:** I own nothing of Narnia, none of the characters, none of the ideas, none of the places, none of the anything. The only thing I own is my OC. Everything else is the property of the estate of CS Lewis.

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_**Imagination, Reality, and the Space Between**_

_**Chapter Seven:**__** Flight**_

Once back at the dam, Mr. Beaver burst through the door shouting: "Hurry Mother, They're after us!"

"Oh! Right then." she said. With that, Mrs. Beaver set to laying out sacks and stuffing them full of a variety of things.

"What's she doing?" Peter asked, but Mr. Beaver just shrugged and shook his head.

"Oh, you'll be thanking me later. It's a long journey, and Mr. Beaver gets pretty cranky when he's hungry." She said. "Now, Mr Beaver, if you'd reach down and get some of that ham. Oh, and some one get two or three loaves of bread from that crock in the corner."

Everyone looked at one another confused before they began grabbing things as she called them out. It was the general opinion that they should all get out as quickly as possible, but they weren't going to leave without Mrs. Beaver either. Most of the packed items were foodstuffs, which prompted Susan to ask the question: "Do you think we'll need jam?"

"Only if the Witch serves toast!" Peter said patience obviously threadbare.

A moment, the sacks were full and being doled out (by size) to each person in the room. As each was given a load, they all could hear snarling from outside the walls of the dam.

"Hurry!" said Mr. Beaver, opening what looked like a pantry door to reveal a hole in the ground just large enough for them to all fit in with a rope dangling in the center.

Mr. Beaver lowered himself down first, followed by Peter, then Lucy, then Susan and Marilyn, and lastly Mrs. Beaver who pulled the door to behind them. Being small as she was, Mrs. Beaver slipped around the others, to come up behind Mr. Beaver.

As they ran along, Mr. Beaver commented that he and Badger had built the tunnel and that it ended up near the Badger's house. Mrs. Beaver had been indignant, apparently having been lied to about the destination of the tunnel. It was then that Lucy tripped; causing three heads to whip backwards and two people to stop dead. What they heard in that moment of impromptu silence was the sound of wolves – in the tunnel.

The group picked up their pace (as much as they could with each carrying a sack of food in the small tunnel) and before too long they reached the end, all frightened and in a hurry. There was no rope at the other end but rather a hole in the ceiling of the tunnel that one had to shimmy up to reach ground level. The Beavers went first, and easiest, after which Susan climbed out just as quickly.

Lucy reached for the inside edge of the hole but came up just shy of being tall enough to get a proper grip to pull herself up.

"I can't reach it!" She said, straining her arms out. The barking and growling of the wolves was growing closer.

Peter passed the torch he had been carrying in one hand to Marilyn who stood to the side and gave Lucy a boost and the climbed out himself. Marilyn dropped the torch, and reached upwards, shimmying through the hole in the ground. It was a tight squeeze, especially since she was still carrying the sack given to her from Mrs. Beaver, but she was able to pull herself out once her arms were well and good on the other side.

Once they were all out of the tunnel, Mr. Beaver and Peter worked on blocking the tunnel, in the end all they could do was overturn a barrel over the hole. As they were turning away, Lucy fell over, having lost her balance, and landed on an assortment of stone animals. Mr. Beaver looked around, and his face fell. They were in what looked to be a small village. Marilyn extended a hand to Lucy, who took it and pushed herself up into a standing position once more. They all walked in silence, around the corner into a circle of houses. Worse than the fact the entire village was silent was that in the center of the little ring of burrows and houses was a stone badger with a raised paw and a pained expression. There was an immense feeling of sadness that hung in the air; the Witch had been here already.

"He was my best mate." Mr. Beaver said sadly, walking up to touch the statue.

"This is what happens to those who cross the Witch." said a voice from out of nowhere. The girls scurried to stand behind Peter, and Mr. Beaver marched up to the owner of the voice (a fox, who was now visible) threatening all the way.

"If you come any closer traitor, I'll chew you to splinters."

"Relax! I'm one of the good guys." said the Fox as he jumped down from atop one of the houses.

"Well, you look an awful lot like one of the bad ones." said Mr. Beaver argumentatively.

"It's an unfortunate family resemblance. But we can argue breeding later; right now we have to move."

At that moment, they could all hear snarling and howling along with a persistent scratching coming from behind them.

"What did you have in mind?" asked Peter without any hesitation.

The fox sent them off in a vague sort of direction, in which the Beaver assured the fox there was a hiding place for them. The fox swore to send the wolves in the wrong direction, which would distract them for at least a little while. The group went off at a breakneck run, the sacks each one carried slamming against their backs (For Mrs. Beaver had tied the two strings that held them closed together so that everyone could sling the bag over their shoulder so that it didn't take one hand to carry them) as they went. If felt as though they had been running for hours when they finally reached a stopping point, a cave Mr. Beaver said was a hiding-place for beavers in hard times. The cave was very small, hardly big enough for all four of them.

In all honesty, running away from the White Witch was not exhilarating or even terrifying most of the time like it was in the penny-dreadful that Marilyn had read once just to spite her mother who thought they were worthless garbage(her mother had been right in hindsight). It was simply exhausting. As they all crammed into the tiny cave, putting their sacks together in order to have some sandwiches to eat, Marilyn wished that she was back at home. At least at home she could have dry socks. From all that running in the snow, her socks had become soaking wet and were only now beginning to dry out in the freezing cold air. However, she made a marked attempt not to complain, as if her worst problem was that she had cold feet due to wet socks she really had no reason to. After all, her brother hadn't been captured by some wicked Witch with a murderous tendency when it came to humans.

As such, the only thing she said once they were all settled and had their sandwiches was: "I do hope that the fox that helped us is alright." It was a sentiment to which there was general agreement but little else was said that night. Mr. Beaver passed around a flask, from which everyone took a sip, and from there they slept, all in a little row, with Marilyn on one side of the cave and Peter on the other, with Lucy and Susan in between.

Morning came far too soon for all of them. They set out across a vast white plain, all of them still exhausted, seemingly except Mr. Beaver, who kept insisting they hurry. They plodded on until near midday listening to his insistences that they hurry. Susan had been taking the lead (as far as the children went) then Peter, while Marilyn hung back with Lucy.

"Are you alright Lucy?" she asked for the third or fourth time.

Though the other times Lucy had merely nodded and kept going, this time she mumbled out a response before continuing to troop forward. "I don't think I can walk very much farther."

Not a moment later came another prod from Mr. Beaver. "Come on humans. While we're still young."

From ahead of them, Lucy and Marilyn could hear Peter complain. "If he tells us to hurry one more time" here he knelt so that so that Lucy could climb on his back, which she did tiredly shifting the sack full of food around to accommodate. "I'm going to turn him into a big fluffy hat."

"Do you think that if we dropped these sacks on him, he'd stop for a little while?" Marilyn asked quite annoyed with the Beaver's rushing herself.

Lucy giggled.

"Probably not." Peter said honestly.

"You're probably right." She said resignedly.

They hadn't even gone ten feet before the Beavers called out again. "Hurry up! Come on!"

Lucy crinkled her nose distastefully. "He is getting a little bossy."

"No! Behind you! It's her!" shouted Mrs. Beaver. They all turned and saw what looked to be a sleigh in the distance.

"Run! Run!" Mr. Beaver said, taking off on four legs instead of two.

Peter let Lucy drop to the ground and the children picked up their pace to a run out of sheer terror. They ran, until they reached the edge of the forest, where within sight Mr. Beaver and Mrs. Beaver stood by what looked to be a short drop off of the ground. They all went down the drop off, where there was a niche in the ground just barely large enough to fit all six of them. They sat in the little niche for what felt like hours but was actually only a few minutes, just sitting and waiting still terrified that at any moment that the White Witch would suddenly see them. After a moment, the sound of the snow shifting had stopped, and there were footsteps. A long shadow was cast out over the snow in front of them. Marilyn stifled a gasp as she watched the shadow warily, sure in that moment that they were done in.

After another moment, the shadow was gone.

"Is she gone?" Lucy whispered questioningly.

"I suppose I'll go and check." said Peter, moving slightly in the snow.

"No! You're no good to Narnia dead." Mr. Beaver said, stopping Peter and going himself to see whether or not the Witch had gone. Mrs. Beaver protested, but that didn't deter Mr. Beaver in the least.

After what seemed a very long while (it was really only about five minutes), they heard something that settled a feeling of dread over all of them. They heard voices. However, the voices were quickly followed by Mr. Beaver popping his head over the edge of the little niche so they could see him.

"It's alright. It isn't her. I hope you've been good, 'cause there's someone here to see ya!" He said excitedly.

Though they were all confused, they trooped up the snow bank to find just who their visitor was. There was a sledge and there were reindeer, but inside of the Witch, inside the sleigh sat a huge man in a bright red robe with a hood lined with fur with a great white beard.

Lucy had no trouble accepting that Father Christmas was standing there not fifteen feet away from them.

"Merry Christmas, sir." she said happily

He laughed. "It certainly is, Lucy, now that you have arrived."

Marilyn, however, blinked, and shook her head before blinking again. How could Father Christmas be here? It was hard to take in. Susan seemed to be having the same trouble as Marilyn, as she spoke, more to Peter than anyone: "Look, I've put up with a lot since I've got here but this…"

The thought was never completed, as Peter interrupted her to address Father Christmas. "We thought you were the Witch." he said.

"Yes, yes, I'm sorry about that, but in my defence, I've been driving one of these longer than the Witch." Father Christmas said, pulling off his gloves.

Susan stepped forward slightly. "I thought there was no Christmas in Narnia."

"No, not for a long time. She has kept me out, but I have gotten in at last. Aslan is on the move, the Witch's magic is weakening. Still, I dare say you could do with these." Father Christmas said, hefting a large bag from the back of the sleigh.

"Presents!" Lucy cried happily running up .

"Yes, Presents. Now, for you Mrs. Beaver, there is a new and better sewing machine. I shall drop it at your house when I pass, and for you Mr. Beaver, your dam mended and finished, with all the leaks stopped and a new sluice-gate fitted."

The Beavers were pleased beyond words to hear all of this, and they stood in open mouthed in thanks since no words of thanks would come to mind.

"Now, Lucy, Eve's Daughter," he said pulling a small glass bottle and sheathed dagger out of the bag. "This is the juice of the fire-flower, one drop will cure any injury." He said, passing the little bottle to Lucy. "And though I hope you never have to use it." He added, placing the dagger in her hands.

"Thank you sir, I – I think I could be brave enough."

"I am sure you could, but battles are ugly affairs." He said, smiling at her.

"Susan." He said next, taking a bow and quiver of arrows out of the sack. "Trust in this bow, and it will not easily miss."

Susan looked at him questioningly. "What happened to 'battles are ugly affairs'?"

Father Christmas merely laughed and handed her a horn that looked to be made of ivory. "And though you don't seem to have a problem making yourself heard, blow on this and help will come no matter where you are."

"Thanks." Susan said quietly, staring at the objects in her hands.

"Peter." Father Christmas said, holding a sword and shield in hand. "The time to use these may be near at hand."

Peter drew the sword, the silvery metal of the blade glimmered in the light. "Thank you sir."

"These are tools, not toys. Bear them well and wisely."

Marilyn watched the goings on in silence, unsure if she'd receive anything, as the longer they travelled, the more evident it became that she was a mere bystander in a story, that if told on the other side of the wardrobe would be the sort with heroes that always won, for they always fought for what was utterly right, rather than their own ends.

Therefore, when Father Christmas turned to her, she was more than a little surprised.

"And lastly, Marilyn, Daughter of Eve." Father Christmas said with a light smile in the words.

"Yes,sir?" She said uneasily, stepping forward haltingly with her eyes fixed on Father Christmas' face.

He pulled forth a silver chain, and placed it softly in her hand. Attached to the chain, there was a small glass crystal ball that contained what looked to be an apple seed in the center.

"Remember that this is your journey as well. Do not forget yourself along the way."

She nodded silently, placing the necklace around her neck and watching as he pulled two sheathed long-handled knives from the bag.

"Am I to fight?" she asked in a small voice, feeling very much frightened at the idea.

"You will find out for yourself soon enough. Trust your heart; it will not lead you astray."

She nodded, stepping back.

Father Christmas sighed in that sort of contented manner that people do when they are aware they have work to do (at least when its work they enjoy).

"Well, I must be off. Winter is almost over, and things do pile up when you've been gone for a hundred years." He said, placing the sack of gifts back on the sleigh before climbing onto it himself. "Long live Aslan! And Merry Christmas!" He said before taking the reins and cracking them.

All six of them took up a call of "Merry Christmas!" in return until Father Christmas had disappeared from sight. At that point, Lucy turned to Susan, with a look on her face that was as close to snide as Lucy could possibly get.

"I told you he was real." She said.

Peter stared after him silently for a moment, looking very hard into the distance where they had been able to see the sleigh mere seconds before.

"What is it?" Marilyn asked.

"He said winter is almost over. You know what that means." Peter said.

The others merely looked at him curiously.

"No more ice."

* * *

**Author's Note**: I just had to do the movie version of the arrival of Father Christmas because I absolutely love the bit about Peter turning Mr. Beaver into a hat. I never fail to laugh at it, and just couldn't leave it out (I tried honestly, because it's really pointless, but I just kept itching to write it in, so I did). And the description of Father Christmas is taken nearly verbatim from the book, because to be honest, I've no idea what Father Christmas is supposed to look like, after all, all I've ever known is Santa Claus, and I do realize they're different.

Please tell me if you don't get the necklace bit. (EDIT: To make this simple for the readers who have not read the entire series, the necklace is a reference to The Magician's Nephew.) I was going for a little, well, not so much irony as symbolism, I guess. The knives are of course for protection, even _if_ she doesn't actually use them, rather like Susan's bow or Lucy's dagger. In fact, tell me if that whole bit 'felt' right, please. I'm not so sure about whether it does or doesn't. (Note the accented if. I'm not telling you whether she does or doesn't.)

In any case, if you've read this far, please do read and review. Thanks and happy reading,

ESG


	9. Chapter 8: Across the Frozen River

**Disclaimer:** I own nothing of Narnia, none of the characters, none of the ideas, none of the places, none of the anything. The only thing I own is my OC. Everything else is the property of the estate of CS Lewis.

* * *

_**Imagination, Reality and the Space Between**_

_**Chapter Eight: Across the Frozen River**_

The realization that the end of winter would impede their progress toward the stone table set everyone off at a dead run immediately, or very nearly so, because first they had to affix their gifts from Father Christmas so as not to lose them. (Marilyn had a good deal of trouble with the knives, but she eventually did succeed) Once that was done, they headed after Mr. Beaver towards the river.

On one hand, they were lucky, as they had been nearer than they thought they had been. However, it seemed that the Witch's enchanted winter was fading faster than any of them could have possibly expected. As they arrived, much of the ice covering the river was already gone with the only ice left covering the waterfall and the water immediately below the waterfall. It was narrow, though not too terribly so, but it was fast breaking apart.

"We need to cross, now!' Peter said, in a voice that sounded quite scared, if not terrified.

"Don't beavers make dams?" Lucy asked Mr. Beaver, her eyes wild.

"I'm not that fast, dear" he replied, shrugging apologetically.

"Come on!" Peter said grabbing Lucy's hand.

"Wait! Why can't we just think about this for a minute?" Susan said loudly.

"We don't have a minute!" Peter said angrily, whirling to face Susan.

"I'm just trying to be realistic." She said defensively.

"No, you're trying to be smart like usual."

Marilyn blinked. "Now really isn't the time to call each other out, you know." She muttered more to herself than anyone in particular.

"What do you mean by that?" Susan said after hearing what Marilyn said, as she began to pick her way down the side of the cliff following Peter and Lucy

"I just think we should be worried about the fact there's a mad woman and most likely a pack of wolves on our heels. Fighting each other is NOT going to help." Marilyn replied.

In the distance, they could hear wolves howling.

"Now wouldn't be a good time to mention I've a fear of drowning, would it?" Marilyn called out nervously looking between the river and the way they'd come.

"No, it wouldn't." Peter said matter-of-factly.

"I thought not." Marilyn said, swallowing nervously as she followed the others down the rock face.

It was a long way down, but didn't take very long, as there were enough places for them all to stand, making it a bit like stairs. The worst part was that the rocks were slippery covered with a slush of both un-melted and melted snow. Once they were all safely at the foot of the waterfall, Peter took the first step out onto the rapidly melting river ice. The ice cracked and gave, sinking under the pressure of his foot.

"Wait!" called out Mr. Beaver. "Maybe I should go first."

Peter looked back at him with what could only be described as frightened eyes. "Maybe you should."

Mr. Beaver went ahead, the ice cracking and shifting under his weight as well. Mrs. Beaver looked on accusingly. "You've been sneaking second helpings, haven't you?"

Mr. Beaver looked back sheepishly. "You never know what meal is gonna be your last. Especially with your cooking." He said continuing on.

Once he had gone a little way, the others followed. Marilyn however hung back for a moment looking at the unsteady ice and the river water nervously.

"You can't stand there forever, you know." Susan said, looking back at her.

"I know…" Marilyn said unconvincingly, but stepped out onto the ice as she did.

It shifted, and out of a mix of sheer horror and terror, Marilyn tried to jump back onto the solid ground, but was stopped by Susan reaching out and grabbing her hand to pull her forward as a counterbalance. Marilyn blinked in surprise, but quickly stepped forwards towards the others.

"Thanks." Marilyn said, attempting not to look at the water as she picked her way forward across the ice.

"You're welcome." Susan said, letting go of Marilyn's hand. "If our Mums knew what we were doing…"

"Mum's not here!" Peter said, still sounding annoyed.

Once they reached the river's midpoint, Lucy noticed something that made the crossing all the more dangerous. The wolves had caught up with them and were running across the top of the frozen waterfall.

"Oh no!" She cried out, causing the others to look up.

"Run!" one of them said, probably Peter (Marilyn wasn't sure as she was too busy telling herself '_You won't drown. The ice is perfectly safe. You can make it to the other side._' to pay much attention).

The group attempted to pick up their pace, but it was hard to move much faster than they were, and they didn't get very far before the wolves had them surrounded, or mostly so, as much of the ice they had already crossed had broken away and was floating down river. (At the sight of this Marilyn had swallowed audibly.) Mr. Beaver attempted to attack one of the wolves, but only succeeded in getting himself pinned to the ground.

"No!" shouted Mrs. Beaver in a worried tone.

"Peter!" Lucy screamed, frightened as she shifted behind him to stand between Susan and Marilyn.

As Lucy edged past him, Peter drew his sword, an action that set the wolf to talking.

"Put that down boy, before someone gets hurt." The wolf said in a gravely voice that sent shivers up Marilyn's spine. (Though that could have been the cold as well)

"Don't worry about me, run him through!" Mr. Beaver called out earnestly.

"Leave now while you can, and your brother leaves with you." The wolf said slowly approaching them.

"Stop, Peter! Maybe we should listen to him!" Susan screamed.

"Susan! Have you gone mad? The wolves work for the Witch, remember?" Marilyn hissed worriedly.

"Smart girl." The wolf said at the same time Marilyn started speaking.

"Don't listen to him!" cried Mr. Beaver. "Kill him! Kill him now!"

"Oh come on. This isn't your war. All my Queen wants is for you to take your family and go." The wolf was still encroaching and they had no place left to go if they backed up except for in the river.

There was something in the squaring of Peter's shoulders that told Marilyn that he wasn't sure what to do. 'Oh, come on, Peter. Now isn't the time to question things! We're on a melting river surrounded by talking wolves!' she thought, still terrified of what was becoming an inevitable truth, that they were likely going to be stuck in the river.

"Look, just because some man in a red coat –" here Lucy had mumbled "Father Christmas" "– gives you a sword, it doesn't make you a hero. Just drop it!" Susan shouted.

"No, Peter. Narnia needs you! Gut him while you still have the chance!" Mr. Beaver screamed in direct opposition to Susan.

Lucy was looking more and more terrified, just as Marilyn was feeling more so. "Don't worry Lucy. We'll make it out of this." Marilyn whispered unconvincingly to her amidst all the shouting. Lucy simply grasped Marilyn's hand as if her life depended on it. Marilyn squeezed Lucy's hand tighter, trying to rid herself of her own fear.

"What'll it be Son of Adam? I won't wait forever, and neither will the river." The Wolf said, pitching his voice up an octave at the end of the statement.

Lucy whipped her face around to look at the waterfall. "Peter!" she screamed at him for the second time.

They all turned to look at the waterfall. A massive crack was spreading up the middle and spider-webbing out to the far sides of the falls. Water was already pouring out of the crack, though it was doing so in a way that was particularly reminiscent of someone placing their thumb over the open end of a garden hose. The creaking became much more ominous, the sound making it more than obvious that the ice wouldn't hold for very much longer.

"Hold on to me!" Peter yelled before slamming his sword down into the ice. Marilyn, who was standing well and good behind him at this point, felt her heart drop to the bottom of her stomach as she grabbed onto to the top of his shield with one hand and one of his feet with the other attempting to maintain her center of balance.

It was then that the ice from the waterfall shattered downward, breaking off the ice that the four of them (and Mrs. Beaver) were situated from the rest. The displaced water sent the miniature iceberg propelling downstream, underwater for part of the way.

However, once they surfaced, Marilyn was in a very unpleasant position, as once underwater they had all lost their footing on the ice, which had made Marilyn loose her grip on Peter's shield which meant until they finally came to a stop against the river bank, Marilyn was holding on to Peter's ankle for dear life, and trying not to inhale too much water. She had reached for the bank, flailing one arm wildly until she was able dig her fingers into the dirt well enough to get enough purchase on the ground so that she felt that she was able to let got of Peter's foot. She pulled her self up on the bank slowly, the process taking more than a single try.

Once they had all pulled themselves out of the water, still sputtering for air, Marilyn attempted to stand, but her knees felt a bit like unset pudding, and she ended up collapsed in the melting mixture of snow and dirt.

"What have you done?" Susan screamed at Peter, a statement that made Marilyn look at the both of them. In one hand, Peter held Lucy's coat, but Lucy was nowhere to be seen.

"Lucy!" Susan called out twice before they could all hear a voice from farther down the riverbank.

"Has anyone seen my coat?" called Lucy, walking up to where the others were trying to untangle her small sweater jacket.

They all let out an audible sigh of relief as Lucy came into view. Peter draped the now sopping wet coat around Lucy's shoulders.

"Don't you worry dear, your brother's got you well looked after." said Mr. Beaver.

"And I don't think you'll be needing those coats anymore." Said Mrs. Beaver, looking out in the direction they were headed.

Marilyn turned her head to look. The trees were sprouting blossoms.

"Are you alright?" Lucy asked, causing Marilyn to turn back around.

Marilyn looked at Lucy for a moment, before deciding on how to answer that. "Terrified still, but I'm not hurt. Are you alright?"

Lucy nodded. Marilyn finally picked herself up off the ground, feeling a good bit steadier the second time than she had before. They all headed out after the Beavers, who were walking hand in hand through the now blossoming snow-covered trees.

"Sorry about that." Said Peter from behind Marilyn.

"Why are you apologizing? It isn't as if you intended me to drown. Besides, I probably ought to be apologizing to you for the way I was hanging on to your foot."

"There are holes in my socks from your fingernails now."

Marilyn blinked. That hadn't exactly been the reaction she was expecting. "I'm sorry. I wasn't trying to do that, I was just, erm... trying not to die. Honestly, if I've got to die here, I'd rather it not be because I let myself drown." she said laughing a bit at herself.

It wasn't very long before they left their coats behind, going on without them because the snow was melting so quickly it was all but gone, and the weather seemed to be progressing through January all the way up to May in a matter of hours. They followed the Beavers through the forest, turning a bit south as they went (they didn't know it at the time, but Mr. Beaver remarked on it later on).

By mid or late afternoon, they came upon a large hill, and though it seemed to take forever to scale the hill, when they did, they could see a great green space, with a large stone table in the center, and just beyond, a huge gathering of tents, all in bright reds and yellows, all flying yellow standards emblazoned with a red rampant lion not unlike the one on the shield that Father Christmas had given Peter. They had made it to Aslan's camp.

* * *

**Author's Note:** I'm putting off the meeting with Aslan till next chapter for two reasons: I think it'll carry more weight if it's all its own chapter instead of being tacked on the end of this one, and I've just started back to college and will probably be writing much more slowly, so I wanted to update for you guys now since I've no idea how long it'll be before I get a chance to update again. All that aside, compared to most other chapters, this one's running a bit long. XD.

Also, I apologize for the mostly movie chapter, but really, I like that sequence in the film; though I'm not sure I translated it very well. Anyway, I'll be very grateful for any and all reviews. Thanks, and happy reading,

ESG

PS. I'm contemplating getting rid of the Author's Note in the prologue and creating a forum and linking it in my profile to explain all those things and to address any other questions that come up. I think that AN is scaring off readers… or perhaps I'm being paranoid.


	10. Chapter 9: Meeting Aslan

**Disclaimer:** I own nothing of Narnia, none of the characters, none of the ideas, none of the places, none of the anything. The only thing I own is my OC. Everything else is the property of the estate of CS Lewis.

* * *

_**Imagination, Reality, and the Space Between**_

_**Chapter Nine: Meeting Aslan**_

The camp was splendidly colourful, but that wasn't what surprised them the most. The most surprising thing was the assortment of people, though by definition they weren't actually termed people, standing outside the tents, watching and whispering amongst themselves as the four passed by.

"Why are they all staring at us?" Susan murmured lowly as they walked.

"Maybe they think you look funny." Lucy replied with a giggle.

"… Or it could be that whole prophecy thing…" Marilyn said shrugging lightly.

At the end of the rows of tents, was situated one large tent made of crimson and gold panels. It was a great deal bigger than the others, and it had a small awning over the opening on the tent. The group stopped not fifteen feet from it in a neat little line, as the soldiers in the camp crowded in behind them and to their sides.

Following their arrival, there was a moment of silence between them, though there was a great deal of hushed muttering going on behind them. It was as if a wind had blown through them, carrying upon it a sort of awed fear. And yet, they hadn't seen Aslan.

After that moment, Peter drew his sword with a shaking hand, pointing it ahead of him.

"We have come to see Aslan." Peter addressed the centaur that stood to the side of the tent in a tone that attempted to be brave, but still sounded quite nervous.

This was immediately followed by a moment of expectant silence. A gentle wind blew by, causing the armoured centaur that to look at the entrance of it expectantly before bowing, an action that caused all the other soldiers to follow suit. As a single golden paw emerged from the tent, and with it seemed to carry an inexplicable sense of peace. The feeling had surprised Marilyn, since everything she knew of armies and soldiers came from the wireless back home and it hardly seemed that anyone planning to go to war could possibly have that sort of pure calm about them, and yet, here it was.

The Lion stood before them with a benevolent smile on his face. At the sight of him, in addition to the unexplained sweeping calm feeling, was a rolling and growing perception of what could only be described as true majesty. The combination made it more than apparent that the Beavers had been correct. Though the lion hardly seemed safe or tame (there was a wildness to him that seemed to lurk beneath the exuded qualities, as though it was simply waiting for the right moment to lash out) it was more than obvious he was good in a nearly impossibly pure and perfect form. The feeling that they should bow seemed to affect more than just Marilyn, as within a mere moment of seeing the Lion, all four were bowing before him. As they did so, he began to speak.

"Welcome Peter, Son of Adam. Welcome, Susan, Lucy, Marilyn, Daughters of Eve. And welcome, Beavers. You have my thanks. But where is the other?" Aslan asked the last question with a touch of sadness to his voice as if he knew the answer already.

"That's why we're here sir. We need your help." Peter said, sheathing his sword.

"We had a little trouble along the way." Susan said honestly.

"Edmund was captured by the White Witch." Marilyn added on the heels of Susan's statement.

"Captured? How could this happen?"

"He – betrayed them your majesty." Mr. Beaver said

"Then he has betrayed us all!"

"Peace, Orieus. I'm sure there's an explanation."

Peter looked down, feeling guilty. "It's my fault really. I was too hard on him"

"We all were." Susan said.

"Please sir, he's our brother." Lucy said sadly.

"I know, dear one, but that makes only the betrayal all the worse." Aslan said. "This may be more difficult than you think."

After that, Aslan had had the Naiads and Dryads (women made of water and what appeared to be petals from blooming trees as well as trees themselves) take the three girls away from others. They had gone a decent distance from the main camp to a tent near a small stream bed. The three had followed in relative silence, curious as to where they were going but quite tired still. As they approached, it was clear that within the pavilion stood a large wooden tub.

Marilyn caught sight of them and perked up considerably. "Baths?" She questioned the Dryad nearest her. "For us?" The Tree-woman simply nodded in reply. Marilyn couldn't hold back a genuine smile, one of the first since they had been in Narnia. A bath would be absolutely lovely.

The three cycled through the small tent, each getting a bath and new clothes. The naiads and dryads had apparently expected them to be older, as though they were able to find dresses for Susan and Marilyn fairly easily; they had to look for a dress small enough for Lucy. Since they were having such a difficult time procuring clothing for Lucy, she had to go last.

Marilyn was given a dress that was the colour of chocolate, with white embroidery that resembled flowers about the neckline. Susan was given a green dress, which in all honesty, Marilyn thought was much prettier, but she wasn't really complaining. After all, they didn't have to give them new clothes at all, so it seemed rude to complain about something so trivial. Though, Marilyn supposed, her dress wasn't really all that bad, in fact, it was much more comfortable than most of her dressed back home in London. Those were always pressed and starched and awful to wear, but at least she was only made to wear them for church services at Christmas and Easter and for parties her parents had when she was home for the holidays. Ever since she had started to school, she had only had one of those dresses a year; her mother had always said that it was wasteful to have more than one nice dress that you would grow out of in a year, especially if you only wore them at the most five times. And not only was it more comfortable, she actually felt pretty in this dress, unlike in any of the others.

"What do you think he'll do?" Susan asked suddenly as the two girls were waiting on Lucy.

"Who and about what?" Marilyn asked, leaning against a tree.

"What Aslan will do about Edmund."

"Oh. Well…" Marilyn paused momentarily, placing her arms around her knees. "I don't know. I suppose I just assumed he'd rescue him and that would be all there was to it."

Susan closed her eyes for a moment. "I hadn't thought much about it at all, but when he said that it would be harder than we thought, it made me wonder about it."

Marilyn stood and placed an arm around Susan's shoulders. "I'm sure Aslan will keep Edmund safe."

The truth was she wasn't sure at all, but that wasn't what Susan needed to hear, and Marilyn knew it. So instead of saying anything else, she held her tongue and did her best to be comforting.

* * *

**Author's Note**: This chapter didn't seem to want to be written. But I finally finished it. At any rate, as I've been writing this chapter for going on a week and a half, I'm still not totally happy with it. I realize that this is really just filler, but as I've spent more than a week writing it, I'm posting it anyway. Next chapter will have some plot moving content. Anyway, if you've read this far, I'd love hear what you think, and the only way that'll happen is if you review. Thanks for reading,

ESG


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